


Ashes of Eden

by ObliObla



Series: Lucifer Songfics [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crucifixion, Gen, God's kind of a dick, Gospels, I Don't Even Know, Jesus is a good guy, Potentially controversial religious opinions, Pre-Canon, Religious Content, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16093652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliObla/pseuds/ObliObla
Summary: Yeshua was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the Devil. After fasting for forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”And he answered, “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”And the Devil sat, heavily, on a boulder; he looked up at the sky, yelling, “There; is one temptation enough this time, you manipulative bastard?”





	Ashes of Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Will the faithful be rewarded  
> When we come to the end?  
> Will I miss the final warning  
> From the lie that I have lived?  
> Is there anybody calling?  
> I can see the soul within  
> And I am not worthy  
> I am not worthy of this
> 
> Are you with me after all?  
> Why can't I hear you?  
> Are you with me through it all?  
> Then why can't I feel you?  
> Stay with me, don't let me go  
> Because there's nothing left at all  
> Stay with me, don't let me go  
> Until the ashes of Eden fall
> 
> Will the darkness fall upon me  
> When the air is growing thin?  
> Will the light begin to pull me  
> To its everlasting will?  
> I can hear the voices haunting  
> There is nothing left to fear  
> And I am still calling  
> I am still calling to you
> 
> Heaven above me, take my hand  
> Shine until there's nothing left but you
> 
> -Breaking Benjamin-

Yeshua was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the Devil. After fasting for forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”

And he answered, “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

And the Devil sat, heavily, on a boulder; he looked up at the sky, yelling, “There; is one temptation enough this time, you manipulative bastard?”

Yeshua blinked in confusion; this was not what he had been expecting. The Satan, the deceiver—pale as a Gaul, dressed as a Roman official, speaking Aramaic like a Jerusalemite—was… staring morosely into the darkness; he steeled himself, “What test is this, serpent? I will withstand your tortures, for my Father is with me.”

The prince of this world howled with laughter, head thrown back like a wolf. “Your Father will not aid you,” he mocked, “Who do you think sent me, _son of God_?”

“But, why would He…?”

“Surely you have read your Tanakh, rabbi? We both have our parts to play. Now,” he stood, towering over him, “Tell me, what do you desire in this life?”

His smile stretched like sin; Yeshua averted his gaze, but the words still pressed themselves past his lips, “I… I want to be a craftsman, like my father. I don’t want this mantle.” He fell to the ground; he had lost to temptation. His worldly flesh was weak. He braced for attack, but…

“Hmm… maybe He found a good one this time,” the Devil sounded impressed, despite himself. “Messiah,” he lifted him back to his feet, meeting his eye again, “are you certain that you do not want wealth?” Shining Tiberian aurei poured from his other hand.

“No,” Yeshua forced himself to hold the serpent’s gaze.

“Power?” he clenched his fist; the earth cracked beneath them.

“No.”

He stroked his finger down his cheek, voice low and deep, “Pleasure?”

And again, “No.” The Devil dropped him, settling back on his boulder.

“You are strong of will, savior; He does not deserve your faith and,” he shook his head, wearied, “they will not deserve your sacrifice.”

Sacrifice? He had not been told of this, but he held his tongue. This was a trick; it must be.

“You want to ask, don’t you?” he chuckled bitterly, “But I see He has already afflicted your mind, convinced you that disobedience is the greatest sin. I will tell you anyway; consider it a mercy, though you may not see it that way.” His mirth, however meager, fell away, “You will die; I do not know how, nor when, but soon. They will beat you for your claims and they will kill you for your actions; you will die slowly, painfully, and your Father will forsake you in your agony.” He smirked, “Such a merciful lord, isn’t He?”

The words crawled into his ears, destroying his certainty; his old insecurities returned, but he could not show his doubt, “You lie; you are the deceiver!”

“How dare you?” Pale skin gave way to raw flesh as dark eyes filled with twisting flame. He cowered at the infernal onslaught; the serpent reared, “ _I_ tell no falsehoods; it is _He_ who is the slanderer!

“I force none; I tempt, that is all, and it is He who commands it. I am _His_ punisher, _His_ venom; I was sent here at His behest to seduce you into sin, as I tempted those before you.” His human face reappeared. “Say _no_ ,” he was nearly pleading now, “Tell Him you won’t be His anointed one. You have free will; He cannot _make_ you do as He desires. You can work in your father’s profession, marry… have children if you wish. Live a long, happy life.”

Yeshua searched for deception, but could find none, “Why do you care what I do?”

“Because you’ve a choice,” his head dropped, defeated, “something I was never allowed.”

“What is my… sacrifice intended to accomplish?”

“Your ministry will be elevated to the stuff of legend. Your death is designed to help other humans cleanse their souls of sin, sparing them the tortures of Hell; it is a,” his mouth twisted in disgust, “ _noble_ goal, but our Father has always let the ends justify His means.”

Yeshua considered, “Will it work?”

He shrugged, “I am no seer; I do not speak of fate, only potentiality. But, I do know human nature, and I will say this: there is nothing so vile that you humans cannot make it holy, nor any virtue you cannot corrupt into filth.”

“I…” he took a deep breath, his determination returning, “I have to try, though; even if I can do nothing, I have to try.”

He sighed, “One of my Father’s best jokes, I think. You are a righteous soul; He need not force you into action, merely give you enough power to change things and you’ll end up doing what he wants anyway.

“Here,” he waved his hand over a fallen log; it piled itself high with roasted goat, honey cakes, fruit and wine, “you will need sustenance for your return to your people.”

“Is…” Yeshua stuttered, uncertain, “is this another temptation?”

The Satan—the great beast—snorted in amusement, “Hardly.” He sobered, “Your test is complete. Now look, you are half-starved: _eat_.” He took a loaf of bread. The Devil nodded approvingly; he flashed a wan smile, “I wish you luck with your ministry Yeshua, son of Joseph.” He disappeared into the darkness.

*   *   *

And so Yeshua gathered his disciples, preached the Word and performed many miracles. One day, he was invited to a wedding, at Cana near Galilee, and his mother and disciples were invited as well. The celebration had passed into night when Mariam came to him, “Son, they have no more wine.”

Nearby stood six stone water jars; Yeshua said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” So they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.” And as the master of the banquet remarked on the quality and purity of the new wine, he heard a chuckle behind him; the Devil stood against the wall with a goblet. He dragged him into a side passageway, away from the ceremony, “What are you doing here?”

The Satan smiled, “I hope all of your miracles are of as good a vintage as this,” he toasted him, mockingly.

Yeshua lowered his voice, “Why do you walk among us in mortal guise?”

“Can I not visit my brother?” at his perplexed look he continued, “The angels are just as much His children as you are and I am, despite my best efforts, still an angel. But, in truth, I have a higher purpose.” He frowned, “Your friend Yohanan, who baptized you in the Jordan river, is dead.”

He fell back against the wall; his voice was rough and choked, “How?”

“Beheaded by Antipas, the ruler of this place. He is in Jerusalem, but you must not go to confront him, nor the temple elders who denounce you. If you go to the holy city, you will surely die.”

“But how can I not?” tears slipped down his cheek, “I would be a fraud if I did not practice what I preach!”

He growled in exasperation, but before he could respond, Judah peeked his head into the passage, “Is everything alright, rabbi?”

“Yes, my friend; go back to the festivities. I am only talking with my brother here.” Judah gave the fallen angel a long look before disappearing back out into the courtyard.

“That one will betray you,” he tilted his head in thought, “The seeds of doubt have already been sown within him.”

“By wh… my Father?”

He smirked, “Catching on, are you?”

“I’m…” he bit his lip, “beginning to understand your frustrations.” He sighed, “Maybe nothing I do matters.”

“That’s not true,” the Devil’s earnestness bled from his eyes, “To preach against hypocrisy is the most noble of endeavors.”

Yeshua blinked, “You’ve listened to my sermons?”

“Well,” he grumbled, “humans are so fragile; they’re liable to die at any moment if you don’t keep your eye on them.” He glared at him, “Do not go to Jerusalem,” his gaze softened, “please, for me.”

He looked away, although not, as he had before, in fear, “I have to.” He walked back to the party; he didn’t look back.  

*   *   *

Yeshua tried to keep away from Jerusalem for as long as he could, while still healing the sick and preaching the Word. But as his reputation grew among the people of Judea, so too did his infamy with the high priests. Eventually, he could delay no longer; he went with his disciples to the holy city.

It happened exactly as the Satan had told him it would: persecution, betrayal, arrest. The prison cell was cold and damp, but the eyes of the man Pilate were worse; he dragged him out for the masses to jeer at. “What shall I do with Yeshua who is called the Messiah?” he called out over the crowds.

“Crucify him,” they screamed; there was no pity in their faces. His disciples had all fled; he was alone. They took him into the Praetorium, put a scarlet robe around his shoulders and a crown of thorns upon his head. They mocked him for his claims, then beat him until he knew no more.

He awoke, head pounding, with nails in his hands and wood at his back; he laughed, voice broken. He was no craftsman, but he would die surrounded by the tools of the trade; it was only fitting. Everything the Devil had told him had come to pass; he looked up, at the sky, and cried, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” There was no answer; he fell into an uneasy sleep.

He woke again, jarred from sleep by the throbbing that beat from his hands to his shoulders; night had fallen and the breeze was blowing in from the coast. His throat burned and his mouth tasted of blood, “Water… _please_ …” He felt a cup being pressed, gently, against his lips; he drank greedily. It occurred to him that he was many feet above the air; how could anyone reach him? He forced his eyes open; white wings beat steadily, brushing the hair back from his face. An angel of the Lord, of course; his Father would never truly abandon him.

“I’m not one of His,” a familiar voice cut through his faith; Helel—the shining one, the son of morning—smirked at him from the darkness, “sorry to disappoint.”

“You…” he cleared his throat, “you were right about… everything.”

“It is my curse to bear,” he hummed, “Do not fear; your suffering will end very soon. Your eternal award awaits you, this I swear.”

“I have been… successful?” he coughed; his lungs ached.

The Satan wiped the blood from his mouth; he smiled, and Yeshua could see the angel he had been, “Yes, child; your words will be immortalized and men will well know how you sacrificed for them.”

“That’s alright, then,” he slumped against the cross, the last of his strength leaving him, “my life has not been in vain.” He gave up his spirit; his soul reached up, ever higher, grasping for the light, but then he felt the hands, cold and inexorable, pull him down into the darkness.

*   *   *

Helel watched as the soul went down, instead of up; with a flash of wings, he was standing at the gates of Hell. He sealed them tight and watched the Messiah’s soul float, untethered. He took off again, landing at the doors to Heaven; he could not enter, but the low-ordered saraph that guarded the gates could not stop him from beating on them with all his angelic might, “Father, I would speak with you!”

A great shudder rent the fabric of the Silver City; the Heavenly Father appeared, flanked by his guard. “Ah, son; I thought that was you, yelling.”

Helel met his Father’s gaze without flinching, “You cannot send Yeshua to Hell.”

The almighty one frowned, “And why not?”

“Why n… because he doesn’t deserve it!” flames rose, unbidden, shrouding his wings.

“That is the point; it’s his sacrifice.”

“He gave up his life for you, isn’t that enough?”

God turned away, humming in thought, “I have a… proposition for you; a deal, if you will. I know how you like those.”

Helel eyed him suspiciously, “And what are the terms?”

“You abdicate your infernal throne—”

“My punishment, you mean.”

He continued, as if uninterrupted, “You can stay here in Heaven, or live out your life on Earth; whichever you’d like.”

“And in exchange?”

“Allow this soul to enter Hell. What is a single human being, after all? You have to think of the bigger picture…”

A different conversation invaded Helel’s mind; not outside the gates, but within them:

> “You have to think of the bigger picture, Samael; how will the humans ever behave unless we give them a reason?”
> 
> “But Father,” he had never dared disobey like this before, “I don’t _want_ to be a punisher. I don’t want to be your venom.”
> 
> And he had turned away, not even deigning to look at him, “Why would it matter what you want?”

_Why would it matter what you want?_

“No.” The word cut the air like a physical blow; Jehovah stepped back.

“No?” his voice was cold and distant

Helel let his glamour fall away; he glared at his Father from the visage of the broken and the damned, “I would rather stay in Hell for the rest of eternity than let even one righteous soul be unjustly punished.”

“Then _you_ will take the burden of their sins,” the angel was falling again, but he felt Yeshua’s spirit as it rose in counter, settling where it belonged, where _he_ didn’t. “So be it,” his Father’s words echoed in his mind as he crashed into Hell for the second time.

“So be it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is, but it's certainly... something. I hope you liked(?) it
> 
> Some notes on names:  
> Hebrew has been given precedence in terms of personal names to better reflect what these characters would generally have been called  
> Helel (Hebrew)- the shining one; the word that the KJV Bible translates as 'Lucifer'  
> Satan (Hebrew)- accuser, adversary; generally prefixed by the article (The Satan) when referring to the angel  
> Samael (Hebrew)- venom/poison of God; sometimes considered in Judaism to be the primary Angel of Death  
> Devil (Greek)- slanderer [personally, I'd really like a scene in the show where Lucifer complains about this name in particular, since it's the most popular title that he'd consider entirely untrue; it's impossible to slander when you don't lie, after all]


End file.
